


Drabble Collection

by TourmalineGreen



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineGreen/pseuds/TourmalineGreen
Summary: Here is where I post my tumblr prompts and other assorted drabbles!  Come one, come all, come on down to the drabble repository.





	1. Chapter 1

02\. [Sentence prompt, if you want—Halloween themed <3 “I can think of worse things than spending the night in a haunted motel.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613557) (anonymous)

* * *

03\. ["You *know* you're holding the map upside-down, right?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613662) (voicedimplosives)

* * *

04\. [Hello Trixie! I have a sentence for you: Ben Solo had resigned himself to being alone a very long time ago.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613695) (destinieswritten)

* * *

05\. [Spoopy Reylo prompt <3 “I didn’t bring holy water, but I did bring snacks.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613719) (anonymous)

* * *

06\. [Fic Prompt: They’d been able to touch hands once before, maybe it would work again.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613740) (millyslitterbox)

* * *

07\. [First sentence prompt: "You... You don't like Disneyland?"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613803) (reylocalligraphy)

* * *

08.[ 'He's pretty cute', she thought to herself, ogling at the man sat across from her on the lifeboat, the cruise ship sinking in the distance behind him.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613833) (bb-8)

* * *

09\. [first sentence prompt! :) (if you want) He had been told there would be food at this event, but as he looked around... it was impossible to deny that he'd been duped.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613980) (anonymous)

* * *

10\. [Ben probably should've foreseen, when Rey refused to abandon that injured Tribble on Iota Geminorium IV, that they'd end up here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38613998) (voicedimplosives)

* * *

11\. [Fic title: American Werewolf in London :P](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38614001) (anonymous)

* * *

12\. [hello the entire prompt is "vampire kylo"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38614019) (destinieswritten)

* * *

13\. [Halloween prompt? “They’re offering a $5000 cash prize to whoever can stay a full night in the house — are you in?”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38614097) (anonymous)

* * *

14\. [Happy Halloween! prompt: 'So which one of you lit the black flame candle?'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487960/chapters/38614118) (anonymous)

* * *

15\. Collected Fic Title Prompts, if they are less than a paragraph:  

  * Made up fic title: Layover (anonymous)
  * Fic Title: Love and Other Indoor Sports (millyslitterbox)
  * Title meme ‘Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids!’ (anonymous)




	2. Chapter 2

**Sentence prompt, if you want—Halloween themed <3 “I can think of worse things than spending the night in a haunted motel.” (anonymous)**

* * *

“I can think of worse things than spending the night in a haunted motel.”

Across the dusty, badly-lit motel room, Ben clapped his hands together as if to warm them; Rey knew that he was a furnace of a man, and saw through the nervous gesture for what it was.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Ben said. “Just fine. Absolutely fine. How are you?”

Rey eyed him, putting her bag up on the bed. Covered with a pastel polyester coverlet, the king-sized mattress sagging in the middle like a well-worn trampoline. She pushed down the flippant reply that his words were practically begging for, and looked at him.

“You’re not… afraid of ghosts, are you, Ben?”

He glared at her. And resolutely did not move further than the entryway, eyes darting nervously around as the heater in the wall gave an ominous snap, crackle, and ping.

“No…”


	3. Chapter 3

**"You *know* you're holding the map upside-down, right?" (voicedimplosives)**

* * *

“You  _know_  you’re holding the map upside-down, right?“

She’d been following the tall, dark-haired man’s BMW all the way down I-5; there wasn’t much to do on a long trip like this one, but each time their cars had passed each other—first his, then hers, trading positions all the way from Redding—Rey had added to her mental construct of him. Maybe he was on a road trip, too. 

When he’d pulled off the freeway and made his way to a gas station for a fill-up, Rey had followed. In the convenience store, she’d bought a Twix and an iced tea, and he’d bought some beef jerky, a bottle of fancy water, and a packet of trail mix. Behind him in line, Rey surveyed his shaggy, dark brown hair, admired the way his red and black plaid shirt stretched across the breadth of his shoulders, wrinkled in the back from sitting in his seat so long. He’d walked his long legs over to the nearby viewpoint to take in the sight of the waves, breaking over the craggy cliff face; Rey had followed, continuing her imagined game. Then, he’d taken out a map.

Rey hadn’t been able to help herself.

The tall man glared down his long nose at her, deep-caramel eyes peering out from behind thick-rimmed glasses. Slowly, he folded the map in half.

“Yes,” he said, slowly, voice colder than the freezer section of a 7-11. “And  _you_ know there are other reasons why someone might want to hold a map in front of their face, right?”

Rey blinked; the man’s eyes darted to the right, to the third car, which had pulled up beside them. It was a station wagon, an older model with—

“Get down,” he said roughly, just as the sound of the gunshot rang out.

Rey screamed; his body covered hers, warm and solid and fucking heavy as shit.

“What the hell—“

“Stay down,” the man said; his brown eyes, freed from their glasses, connected with hers—and then his hands flew to the concealed holster under his plaid shirt.

Rey nodded. She didn’t understand, but… something in his gaze made her feel like this was the side she wanted to be on, when whatever this was went down around them. Content with her compliance, the man steadied his handgun, took a breath, and stood to face their attacker.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Trixie! I have a sentence for you: Ben Solo had resigned himself to being alone a very long time ago. (destinieswritten)**

* * *

Ben Solo had resigned himself to being alone a very long time ago.

It wasn’t precisely what he wanted in life; he’d never been the type to hope for a wife and a home and a white picket fence and two-point-five children, but when he was honest with himself—when he truly sat down and considered all of his flaws and faults against what little he brought to the table, in terms of relationships—Ben knew that he was going to be a bachelor.

First, there was the slight problem of his utter lack of available prospects. Mothers didn’t exactly shove their eligible daughters in front of a guy like him, and dating was… well, dating was the worst. He fumbled; he was awkward; he said the wrong things. Girls wanted suave and charming, and he was neither, on a good day.

Second, he was, at thirty-two, somewhat set in his ways, and to ask some poor woman to deal with his particular idiosyncrasies was just unfair, for her. 

And finally, there was the teensy-tinesey problem of his dreams. Because everything that had happened in his life so far—from the neighbor’s little Chihuahua biting him as he walked back from the bus on the first day of second grade, to the first time he had gotten high at a college party, to the employee review two weeks ago which had been interrupted by a fire alarm—had showed up, in some way in his dreams.

He didn’t like to say they were prophetic dreams, per se. But… every night, without fail, Ben Solo dreamed of the future.  _His_  future, to be precise. Sometimes days before it happened, occasionally as long as a week. 

And in every single dream, he was alone.

Christmases alone. Moving into a new apartment alone. Vacation alone.

He resigned himself to it, and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t fucking depressing. There was comfort in knowing a few pages ahead in a book, a few seconds ahead in a movie, wasn’t there? Ben could make confident decisions about his future, knowing that whether he fought it, or went with it, the fragments he saw in his dreams would always, always happen. If he dreamed of the fire alarm being pulled, then it would be pulled, and he’d save himself the dry cleaning bill on his best suit. He was never so lucky as to dream of lotto numbers or anything, but he knew to pull his car around the other side of the block, to avoid the tree falling down, so that was something. 

So when a five-foot-seven brunette with beautiful eyes and a lilting accent bumped into him in his apartment hallway, asked for his help as she moved her last few boxes in, and promised him pizza for his troubles, Ben Solo could say, for the very first time in his life, that he had not seen her coming at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Spoopy Reylo prompt <3 “I didn’t bring holy water, but I did bring snacks.” (anonymous)**

* * *

“I didn’t bring holy water, but I did bring snacks.”

Rey shot Rose an exasperated look; her friend grinned back, and pointed at the Ouija board her boyfriend, Finn, was opening up on Rey’s coffee table. 

“You really think that thing is going to work? I watched a TED talk on the ideomotor effect and—”

“Ghosts are real,” Finn said, settling the planchette down with a serious look, almost reverence. “We need to treat them with respect, or else their unsettled souls won’t ever cross over.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but crouched down beside Finn and gave him a peck on the cheek. Rey dug through the bag of snacks that Rose had set down, unearthing a bag of caramel-and-cheddar popcorn which sounded weirdly enticing. She opened it, mostly to give herself something to do while her friends made out in her living room. And, privately, to keep herself from thinking about the possibility that there truly was an ‘unsettled soul’ haunting her new apartment. 

It was crazy, and she knew it was crazy, but… the dreams, the faint impressions of a masculine presence, the hint of cologne, the sudden chill in the room. The time her succulent planter had been knocked over and broken… In the absence of other reasonable conclusions, what remained? 

If there was anyone here, then she was going to unsettle that bastard’s soul right out of her studio flat. And with the power of caramel corn and friendship, Rey knew that whoever,  _whatever_  he was, didn’t have a ghost of a chance…

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Fic Prompt: They’d been able to touch hands once before, maybe it would work again. (millyslitterbox)**

* * *

 

They’d been able to touch hands once before, maybe it would work again. All Rey had to do was lower her defenses, reach out through the Force, and hope that he was able to do the same for her. 

But that was the problem, wasn’t it; the last time she’d seen him, seen him in the flesh, they’d been struggling to take ownership of a relic that neither of them truly had a right to wield. And then, the last vision, over six months ago, when he had been on his knees before her while she’d helped the very last of the Resistance onto the Falcon. His mood, then and since, had been melancholy, and his thoughts inscrutable. 

Since then, all had been silence… from his side, at least. 

But she needed him. Rey could no longer deny that the aching gnaw of grief wasn’t just for the members of the Resistance who had been lost. She hadn’t really known them, although she had sympathized with their cause. Echoing loneliness she could manage, had manage, for most of her life. Yearning for connection was a painfully familiar constant in her life. 

Yearning for Ben Solo, or Kylo Ren, or whoever he was, was something that she dared not admit, even to herself. But as she sat by the General’s bedside, listening to the steady, if slow, beep of the monitors, listening to Leia’s breathing, feeling the pull through the Force for the woman to finally be with all of those she had lost already, Rey lowered her defenses, reached out her hand, and wept, and waited. 


	7. Chapter 7

**First sentence prompt: "You... You don't like Disneyland?" (reylocalligraphy)**

* * *

“It’s too crowded,” Ben says, his face in the familiar downturned expression that Rey knows he uses to cover over his anxiety; he tosses a shock of dark hair out of his eyes, watching her as she brings over the two mugs of steaming coffee to sit beside him on the couch.

“Huh,” she replies, handing him one of the mugs—a massive one which still manages to look regular-sized in his hands, painted with dicks that, on first glimpse, look like toile roses—keeping the second mug, which bears the words ‘Might Be Vodka’ for herself. “Alright then, somewhere that isn’t crowded. We could rent a beach house, or find a cabin, somewhere secluded—“

“My only requirement is you.” Ben sets the mug down on the nearby table, his dark eyes locked on hers, his hands reaching for her pajama-clad body as if the messy-haired, morning-breath, sleep-rumpled woman is a goddess made flesh; in his eyes, she is, and has been since the moment they first met. “If you’re there, then I’m happy. It’s our anniversary, I’m not planning on doing much sightseeing.”

Rey squeaks with laughter that turns into a moan when his hand finds its way between her legs, cupping her through the flannel; Rey negotiates her own mug down beside his, and lets him crawl atop her on the couch.

“I’d go anywhere for this,” he mutters between sucking wet kisses on her neck.

“Even—oh shit, right there—even wear mouse ears?” Comes her breathless, playful reply.

Ben stops, and looks up at her. For the briefest of moments, Rey can’t read his flat expression at all. There’s a focused seriousness to his gaze, a contrast to his messy hair and wet mouth.

“For you?” He says at last, softly, reverently: “I’d wear embroidered mouse ears.”

Then he pushes her pajama shirt up, and neither of them can manage speech at all for a long, long time.


	8. Chapter 8

**'He's pretty cute', she thought to herself, ogling at the man sat across from her on the lifeboat, the cruise ship sinking in the distance behind him. (bb-8)**

* * *

Out loud, she said: “I’m sure they’ll find… whoever it was you came with.”

It was supposed to be reassuring, the kind of small-talk you make when you’re on a lifeboat, somewhere in the Gulf of Alaska. But, the dark-haired man grunts, and doesn’t even toss back a look at the cluster of lifeboats. “Came on a work trip; I’m not exactly eager to be reunited… buncha team-building assholes…”

Rey couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud. “A work cruise?  _That’s_  worse than a sinking ship?”

He eyed her, face deadpan. “You haven’t met my co-workers.”

Despite herself, despite all of this, Rey laughed again. “Well, it can’t be worse than going on a couples cruise all by yourself, because the ticket was non-refundable, even if your former fiancée decided to cheat three weeks before your wedding.”

Rey pointed at herself; the dark-haired man winced. “Fucking ouch. You win.”

“Not sure it’s a win, but thank you.”

It was starting to rain now, more than drizzle; the man’s dark hair was rapidly slicking down to his skull, making his prominent features even more sharp, but Rey suspected she looked no better.

“C’mere,” the man said, holding up his suit jacket above his head, gesturing for her to hide from the rain beside him.

Rey smiled at him, and nodded her thanks, tucking up against him and shivering.

“How are you so warm?” she asked, teeth chattering.

“I’m fueled by pure spite,” he said. “It’s invigorating, you should try it sometime.”

Rey laughed. She snuggled in against his body, a perfectly platonic snuggle, practical and reasonable. He smelled… nice. She breathed him in, and let his warmth seep into her.

“Well,” she said quietly, after a few long moments had passed. “I guess I’m glad I’m stuck with you, then.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Me too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**first sentence prompt! :) (if you want) He had been told there would be food at this event, but as he looked around... it was impossible to deny that he'd been duped. (anonymous)**

* * *

_This_  was not food. This was—Ben tried not to sneer at the waiter who passed by, offering him a tiny bite of  _something_  on a bit of toast no bigger than a quarter—a trifling suggestion of a meal, and Ben had made the mistake of not eating before coming to the company holiday party, which meant that his constantly-simmering annoyance with all of his co-workers had blossomed into a hangry discontent. Thank god for the open bar, though; he’d need at least six more drinks before he felt up to any small-talk whatsoever. 

This was precisely why he chose to work remotely, as often as possible.  _People_. 

“Ooh, excuse me—” a bright, accented, woman’s voice from beside him made Ben and the waiter startle, and he turned to see the voice’s owner, just as her hand darted out to the tray. “These things are amazing, have you tried one?”

Ben glared down at her—and then his gaze softened as he took in her body. Five-seven, brunette, with a deep green wrap dress that dipped low to hint at her high, small breasts, Ben was hooked. She put two more of the bites into her mouth; the waiter stood there, tux-clad and trying to be polite. The woman smiled, covering her mouth with her hand—the hand that wasn’t holding a glass of champagne. 

“No,” Ben said at last, when he realized he’d just been staring at her, rather than answering her question. “I… I’m sorry, have we met?”

The woman shook her head; there was something rather charming about the way she savored the food, and Ben couldn’t stop himself from wishing that he could make her moan like that, in pleasure, over something a little bigger and more filling than a canapé. Something that was in his pants, and was very attracted to her lithe, runner’s body, her hazel eyes, her bright smile. 

“They’re good,” she said, reaching out to take one more from the waiter’s tray—then offering it up to him. 

Ben startled. She was holding the bite near his lips, and when their eyes connected, he could see the softness in her gaze that spoke of more than just that single glass of Champagne. 

“C’mon,” she said, as ‘Baby it’s Cold Outside’ began to play entirely too loudly over the speakers. “Just a taste…”

So Ben gave her his most wolfish smile, and obliged her. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Ben probably should've foreseen, when Rey refused to abandon that injured Tribble on Iota Geminorium IV, that they'd end up here. (voicedimplosives)**

* * *

“But she’s so  _soft_ ,” Rey had implored, speaking in the playful, familiar way that  the youngest Chief of Engineering was only able to do while in her private quarters, away from the curious and often judgmental gazes of those who thought she didn’t quite deserve the position at her age, despite her capabilities. “And she  _likes_ me, listen!”

Rey offered up the little ball of fluff to her… well, she didn’t quite know  _what_ Lieutenant Commander Kylo Ren was to her, precisely; Lover? Boyfriend? Both of those sounded like something teenagers would say, and neither of them were that. Ren was something else entirely to her.  

Constantly caught in the push-pull of logic and emotion, the half-Human, half-Betazoid science officer had made love to Rey on a windswept Holodeck-beach before he’d even asked her to dinner, and even now, standing in her quarters, he seemed caught between the urge to touch the Tribble, or throw it across the room. 

The Tribble let out a low, soothing purr-like noise, cradled in Rey’s arms.  Lieutenant Ren made a face, and folded his arms across his chest, stretching the blue uniform fabric rather distractingly taut.

“They have a calming effect,” Rey said, looking back up into Lieutenant Commander Ren’s deep, black eyes. “Especially for humans.”

“Yes,” came the science officer’s reply. “I can… sense that quite clearly.”

From the look on his face, the way his black eyes held hers, Rey could tell there were other things he could sense as well. 

“You know the protocol, Rey,” Ren said, voice and expression softening. “They’re born pregnant, and unchecked—“

“I’ve already spoken to xenobiology about it.” Rey skritched at the little fur ball, eliciting another purring noise. “Don’t you want to touch it?”

“Hmm.” Ren took a breath, and smiled, that private smile that he so rarely shared with anyone. “I don’t… that’s not really what I want to touch right now, Rey…”


	11. Chapter 11

**Fic title: American Werewolf in London :P (anonymous)**

* * *

Time zones. How the  _fuck_  did Ben Solo forget about a little thing called time zones? And  _was_  there a worse location to feel the itch of the Wolf under his skin? Standing in the baggage claim at Heathrow, using every ounce of self-control, Ben tugs his cell phone out of his jacket pocket, and calls the emergency contact he’d had programmed into his phone, just in case.

A woman’s voice answers him.

“I need a safe house,” he says, eschewing greetings and pleasantries altogether, sweet beading on his forehead as he scans the crowd of tired travelers.

Tired, human, meat-filled travelers.

“Alright,” the woman on the other end says. “Where are—“

“Airport,” he nearly barks out. “Heathrow, just landed from—“

“I’ll have someone there in five, Ben,” she says. “Just stay calm, and keep breathing.”

He nods, then remembers she can’t see him through the phone. “Okay, I—wait, how do you know my name?”


	12. Chapter 12

**hello the entire prompt is "vampire kylo" (destinieswritten)**

* * *

Kylo feels the moment when she melts into his embrace, a sudden contrast to the way she’d been struggling just moments before. There’s a softness to her, beneath the lean muscle and taut, runner’s body. A pliancy, a delicacy, hidden beneath the silly costume she’d been wearing when she’d stumbled into the forest. And her blood is sweet, as sweet as she smells, as sweet as he knows her cunt would taste, as sweet as her fear and the plaintive mewls of pleasure/pain as he drinks from her. 

 _Not too much_ , he thinks to himself, but it’s so hard to stop. His mouth is on her neck, his arms supporting her in a blasphemous pieta; he is bent over her, too overwhelmed by her to carry her away, as he had intended. Against his solid chest, she stirs, pressing against him, his hands fisting in his black dress shirt. Her instinct, her animal fear, tells her to struggle, but his power is stronger than her fear, and her desire has claimed her; she grabs at him, pulls him closer, presses her little breasts against him and cries out, wordless, open-mouthed, into the trees. 

The thrall has claimed her, as death surely will if he is not able to stop himself. But he must stop himself; this is the vow he has made to the remnants of his better nature. What fragile shard of humanity remains within him, Kylo knows he could never take a life, never risk turning her, and making her a profane thing, like himself. 

 _Do it,_  the dark voice of his sire whispers from the edge of his thoughts—an echo of a creature long-dead, yet one that still haunts him. _Claim her._ **  
**

But, as Kylo grapples with his instinct, feeling the wavering pulse of the woman in his arms grow fainter with each passing moment, a second voice joins his thoughts.

_Please. Please don’t kill me…_

Kylo’s eyes widen. The girl… this girl should not be able to speak to him like this. Only a bonded mate can… but that’s not possible.

With a gasp, he pulls off of her; the raw, wet mess of her throat glistens in the moonlight, and her hazel eyes, wide and frightened and glassy, meet his.

Kylo knows how he must appear to her: Blood smeared on his mouth—her blood—and the jut of his sharp canines. His long hair hangs in front of his face, and his black eyes glitter with hunger. She ought to be afraid of him, or in his thrall, but instead, she simply meets his gaze. Her mouth tries to move; speaking, now, is impossible, as weak as she is.

What is this strange feeling, brewing in his chest? Desire, yes. Hunger, absolutely. But… guilt, Kylo realizes. It’s a human emotion, one he has not felt in centuries.

 _What are you,_ Kylo thinks. 

And the dying human girl in his arms answers:  _Yours._


	13. Chapter 13

**Halloween prompt? “They’re offering a $5000 cash prize to whoever can stay a full night in the house — are you in?” (anonymous)**

* * *

“Hell no,” Finn says, and beside him, both Poe and Rose are gazing up at the mansion with terrified looks. The terror-struck expression is only somewhat negated by their choice of costumes; Finn and Poe have donned white t-shirts, emblazoned with ‘Bees?’ And ‘Man meat,” respectively, while Rose is in a cute black skater dress with the question in white across her chest: “Lifetime Presents: ________, the story of _________”

Rey; however, is dressed as a little wolf, with furry paw gloves and cute ears on a headband. She pouts at her Friends Against Humanity. “Oh, don’t think I don’t see you over there, conspiring. If I say yes, you three are going to throw rocks at the windows all night just to try and scare me out.”

Rose, now sandwiches between her two answers, giggles. “I’m offended at the very suggestion.”

Rey sighs. The three of them get on like newlyweds; odds are, they’ll just head back to Poe’s place for a very special version of trick or treat.

She looks up at the house, considering. “Five thousand dollars is a lot of money.”

“Unless you have to split it,” Finn replies, inclining his head at the other figure waiting to sign up for the challenge.

“Solo doesn’t scare me,” Rey says, “any more than the house does.”

But as the aforementioned competition turns to look back at her, Rey swallows thickly and suddenly becomes fascinated by her shoes. Ben looks good—he always looks good, and it’s not fair at all. Even tonight, in a high-collared red velvet cape, which ought to look ridiculous but doesn’t at all…

“Looks like the big bad wolf found her Little Red—“ Poe teases, in an undertone that isn’t.

“Oh shut up,” Rey says. “I’m going to win that money. Solo, do your worst.”

She’d muttered the threat, but when Rey looks up, Ben’s eyes have fixed on hers.

_Oh no._


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Halloween! prompt: 'So which one of you lit the black flame candle?' (anonymous)**

* * *

There are two men—practically boys, really, the witch amends—kneeling on the ground before the lit candle. Both of them are staring up at her with terror in their eyes, but other than that, they couldn’t be more different. One is red-haired and lean; the other, black-haired and broad. That one, the witch thinks, he will be magnificent, when he fills out…

“Well?” she demands, growing impatient. “Who—?”

“This wasn’t supposed to work,” the red-haired man hisses to his friend, or to her, or to the night around them. “It was just supposed to be a-a joke.”

“Not a joke,” Rey Sanderson says, gesturing to herself, putting her red-tipped hands onto her very tangible, very real hips, smoothing the dress over her waist as she looks between the young men who are still gawping. “The black flame candle, when lit by a virgin, summons—“

“Well  _I’m_  not a virgin,” the red-haired man sneers.

Rey rolls her eyes. “You are growing rather tiresome. And you really should stop interrupting people, not everyone is desperate to hear what you have to say.”

With the swipe of one hand, Rey directs her powers in the tiresome ginger’s direction. He squeaks, body shrinking, until only a little orange mouse sits there. Then, squeaking once more, he scampers off into the night.

Rey turns her attention back to the dark-haired one, the quiet one.

“You lit the candle,” she says, softly, “didn’t you.”

He nods. Knowing full well what it is he’s also admitting to—his… inexperience.

Rey smiles. Tonight is going to be even more fun than she’d expected…


End file.
